


Gift of the Serpent

by Morgan (morgan32)



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-21
Updated: 2009-07-21
Packaged: 2017-10-02 11:02:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morgan32/pseuds/Morgan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The path of true love never did run smooth...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_The door is open, come on in  
This is your Paradise..._

The smoke in the air was beginning to get to Jack's lungs. Since he'd quit smoking himself, he was much more sensitive to it. Jack leaned back into the padded wall of the booth, trying to keep his breathing shallow. On the table in front of him, half a dozen empty beer bottles were clustered around an unused ashtray. The loud rock music blaring out of the jukebox wasn't helping him to relax, either. Jack glanced over to the bar, watching his friend's back as he tried to get the barman's attention.

Daniel Jackson, very much alive despite recent rumours, was wearing dark blue Levis and a white T-shirt. The shirt, to Jack's eyes was a size too small for him: it clung tightly to his frame, outlining every muscle. _For a geek, he's pretty fit_, Jack reflected, remembering the entry from Daniel's diary Sam had discovered. _Geek_ had been Daniel's word, not Jack's. A year living in the harsh climate of Abydos, and almost another full year serving as a member of SG-1 had erased the former softness from Daniel's frame, and given him a wiry strength like that of a jungle cat. If not for his casually long hair and his glasses, he could have passed for a millitary man.

As if sensing Jack's scrutiny, Daniel turned, offering Jack a shy smile. Jack lifted an empty bottle in mock-salute. By the time Daniel returned to the booth with another round of drinks, Jack had gotten his wavering thoughts back under control. He lifted his bottle — a new one, full — and took a long drink.

"Aah. That's good beer."

Daniel raised his bottle in acknowledgement, just sipping from his beer. He'd had enough to drink already and was starting to feel a bit light-headed. It would be a bad idea to let his judgement be impaired.

The heavy beat of the music became oppressive as someone turned the volume of the jukebox up. The singer's voice grated on Daniel's ears.

_With the lights out  
It's less dangerous  
Here we are now..._*

Jack got to his feet abruptly, groping in his pocket for his car keys. "Guess it's time we headed home."

Daniel agreed with him and stood up to leave, then saw the keys in Jack's hand. "Wait a minute!"

Jack paused in the act of putting on his leather jacket. "What?"

"You're not going to drive?"

Jack shrugged. "How else am I supposed to get home?" He headed for the door. Daniel followed.

What was eating Jack? This evening had begun as a celebration. It's not every day a man comes back from the dead, after all. But it seemed neither of them was really in a party mood. Daniel was still recovering from his experience on Nem's planet, and Jack ... well, he had no idea what Jack was thinking. Something was wrong with him, though. It was completely unlike Jack to drink and drive.

Though it appeared he had every intention of doing so tonight. As Jack headed for his car, Daniel grabbed his arm firmly. "Jack. You can't drive tonight. Come on. You can crash at my place."

Jack, who had turned around when Daniel touched him, stared at his friend for five, long seconds. Then he shrugged. "Okay."

Daniel's apartment was a few minutes walk away. With some relief, he led the way.

***

Jack followed Daniel through the door and glanced around the apartment. It felt so strange. Only a few days before he had been here with Sam and Teal'c, clearing the apartment of all traces of classified material. The things they had removed: Daniel's notebooks, a great many papers and some alien artefacts, had been returned to Daniel. Now they lay in haphazard piles around the shelves, or were still in boxes, arranged along one wall.

Jack shuddered, remembering. The image of Daniel's death — _"Jack, help me!" ... and then the blast of flame — _was going to haunt him for some time. Knowing it was a false memory, that it had never happened, didn't help any.

Daniel followed Jack's gaze and knew what he was thinking. "I'm sorry, Jack," he began apologetically. "I forgot ... "

Jack forced a smile. "Even when you're right here, talking to me, I still can't believe that what I saw wasn't real."

Daniel nodded understanding. "Well, in a way, it _was_ real. I mean, your reality is what you perceive it to be, and memory is a funny thing. If you ... " He caught the look on Jack's face and decided that now wasn't the time for scientific speculations. "Another drink?" he offered.

Jack started to refuse, then changed his mind. Daniel retrieved some ice from the freezer and poured Jack a generous measure of bourbon. For himself, he settled for a Coke. Perhaps better than anyone, Daniel understood what his "death" had meant to Jack. He knew that the Colonel carried around his ghosts almost constantly. And Jack never, or almost never, talked about what was really on his mind.

Jack accepted the glass Daniel offered and made himself comfortable on the couch. Suddenly it wasn't the experience on P3X-866 he was thinking of. He had encountered his own death more than once in his Air Force career.

He remembered sitting foolishly close to the Stargate on P3X-8596, the planet the inhabitants had called Argos. He had been staring down at his hands. His fingers hurt: the onset of arthritis. Faint liver spots were beginning to show on the backs of his hands. Signs of old age. He had been sitting there by the Stargate for hours, remembering the things that had brought him to this place. Remembering his life. A life which, on present evidence, would soon be over.

Jack had many regrets. The death of his son was, naturally, top of the list. He _knew_ he was to blame for that tragedy: his boy, his gun, his carelessness in not keeping the weapon locked up. His marriage, torn apart in the wake of that tragedy by guilt, anger and blame, was pretty high on the list, too. There were other regrets, things Jack could never have spoken. Some of them were official secrets, but the most important ones were merely his own.

A beautiful girl he had known in high school; he never quite screwed up the courage to ask her for a date. A brief affair with his roommate in college, which had ended badly when he joined the Air Force. Of course, it never happened at all, the military having strict rules about such things. The deaths of too many friends during his years in Special Ops. Too many regrets. Sometimes he wished he could be as open to feelings as ... well, as Daniel was. Jack would, had he been able, have wept that day for the wasted chances, the missed opportunities.

It was just a bout of depression. It would pass.

A day later he had sat on the steps of the gate-room, playing the same message from home, over and over again. He was searching for some hope in the short tape. Searching for something that, the practical part of his mind was sure, would not be there.

An image of the rest of SG-1; the visual was slightly behind the audio track, making it hard to read the feeling behind the words.

Daniel's voice: " ... So if you need anything ... "

Jack hit the rewind again.

" ... off limits for the next few millenia. But we can send objects through ... "

Rewind.

"General Hammond says ... "

Jack might have stayed there for hours, or until the recorder's battery went dead, but he was interrupted by Kynthia and the others. She had spoken of taking pleasure in life and Jack had raged at her. At all of them. Taking out his frustration with the message and with his situation on them. They hadn't deserved it.

Maybe Kynthia's philosophy wasn't such a bad one. Celebrate life, treasure every moment and grab every chance that comes your way, because it might not come again. Life, even one measured in years, was too short for brooding over regrets.

Another moment: Jack had turned at a sound to see her there, silent, waiting. This time, when she approached him in love he did not resist. Her kisses were sweet as honey, her body perfect and ripe and giving. Yet for the briefest moment, when he closed his eyes in orgasm, it wasn't   Kynthia's face he saw ...

"You're in a strange mood tonight." Daniel's comment cut into the memory like a knife.

Jack stretched out his legs, tipping his head back and arching his spine. Daniel watched, his mouth dry. The curve of Jack's neck, his pale throat exposed to the dim yellow lighting, drew a response from somewhere deep inside. A response Daniel quickly shoved back behind closed doors within himself.

"It's not every day," Jack told him, "I see a friend come back from the dead."

And to that Daniel had no answer. His own experience on P3X-866 had been bad enough. He remembered the mindless dedication the alien, Nem, had to his cause. Four _thousand_ years, seeking for an answer he must surely have known. All those centuries searching for his mate ... his wife. There was a personal resonance there, the reason why in the end Daniel had agreed to help Nem. But he quickly pushed that thought aside, too.

Daniel understood that sort of dedication, but not to a person. Unknown — at least on that day — even to his closest friends, Daniel had his own defences. Always open to friendship, it was a rare thing for Daniel to find access to more than that. His first passion had always been for knowledge. For that, he had always been willing to sacrifice.

Like the impossibly vast library they had discovered when they went through the Stargate to rescue Ernest Littlefield. Such a serendipitous discovery: an accidental dialling of the gate fifty years before, buried in the dusty vaults of the Pentagon until Daniel, with his academic's desire for completeness had discovered and requested the forgotten records.

He remembered the incredible potential of their discovery: a universal Rosetta Stone that might have given them access to the accumulated knowledge of four powerful alien races. Even just skimming the surface could have advanced human knowledge by centuries. And, yes, for that, Daniel had been willing to sacrifice. The chance to touch that place was everything, _more_ than he had ever dreamed of. Years spent buried in books, or working his fingers to the bone on digs, searching for answers to elusive questions ... knowledge for its own sake.

He had been willing — no, eager — to risk his life for that place. Anything to study what he could see for just a little longer. Jack, ever practical, hadn't understood. As their danger grew greater, Jack hadn't even tried to understand. At a distance from those events, Daniel could be glad of Jack's scepticism. It had, after all, saved his life. Saved all their lives. Jack had refused to risk leaving Daniel behind, and for that refusal had almost died himself, as the mysterious castle crumbled around them when they ran for the gate together.

It had been so close ... Daniel would never have forgiven himself if Jack had ...

Why, he wondered again, did he feel so close to this man? Maybe it was normal for Jack — intellectually Daniel was aware that the life of a warrior created deep bonds between comrades. It was a common theme in the literature of many cultures. But it wasn't normal to Daniel. Whatever kind of life he had fallen into, he was still essentially a scholar. _A geek,_ he thought, wryly. And in any case, the feelings he had for Jack weren't the same as his feelings for Sam, or Teal'c.

In all of the languages of all the cultures Daniel knew, he had only one word for this feeling. The one word that could never be spoken.

Daniel was used to keeping things secret.

So all he said, in response to Jack's words, was, "I know."

Jack looked up then, meeting Daniel's eyes. "It was crazy, y'know. I _saw_ you die. I can still remember it." There was an odd look in Jack's eyes: more was being said than the words. But Daniel wasn't sure he could read that message. Until Jack added, "When I thought you were gone, it hurt a lot. Felt like my fault, somehow. Just like ... "

"Like Charlie?" Daniel interrupted, understanding. Jack had been tricked into believing him dead, and left him behind on the planet.

Jack nodded. "If it wasn't for me, you'd still be on Abydos ... "

"I'd be _dead_, Jack. Hammond's bomb would have killed me, and Sha're, and Ska’ra and everyone else on Abydos. Jack, I'm not a child. I've made all my own choices. Listen, if I _had_ died on P3X-866 it would have been with no regrets. Not even Sha're, because I know that as long as you're alive there's hope for her."

Throughout this speech, Daniel held Jack's gaze. But by the end, it felt like Jack was holding his; an intensity of feeling in his dark eyes that Daniel found more than a little disconcerting. Daniel removed his glasses, the gesture breaking the look between them. He rubbed at the bridge of his nose before replacing the glasses and risking another look at Jack. Had he really seen desire in those eyes? Wishful thinking, surely.

When Daniel looked away, Jack reached for his glass of bourbon to cover the heat rising in his cheeks. He felt as awkward as a teenager. For crying out loud, what was he thinking? Daniel had offered him a place to crash for the night, nothing else. Angry with himself, Jack clenched his fist convulsively.

The sudden movement knocked the glass from the table. A pungent smell filled the air as bourbon spilled over the carpet.

Jack swore, reaching down for the glass. "God, I'm sorry, Daniel ... "

"It's alright. I've got it." Daniel, quick to reassure, was on his knees beside the coffee table almost before the glass spilled. Having no cloth to hand he stripped off his T-shirt and began to mop up the golden liquid using that.

Then he stopped. Jack's reaching for the glass had brought his hand very close to Daniel's. Daniel looked up to find his eyes, just inches from Jack's, caught once again by that intense gaze. For a few seconds neither of them moved.

Jack, his voice little more than a whisper, said, "I'm going to do something very stupid in a moment."

Daniel caught his breath, suddenly acutely aware of his bare skin and of his Levis becoming uncomfortably tight. The simple words, an acknowledgement he had secretly hoped for and never expected to hear, shifted the patterns of Daniel's entire world. He blinked; his apartment looked no different. But he knew it would never be the same.

Jack was silent, waiting, and Daniel knew he had to say something. His next words could kill a valued friendship, or open up a whole new universe. What else was there to say?

"I think ... " Daniel began, and had to pause, his throat suddenly too dry for speech. He swallowed, tried again. "I think I want you to." In that moment, he was capable of no more.

The relief in Jack's eyes was overwhelming. Abandoning the glass where it had fallen, Jack raised his hands to Daniel's bare shoulders, stroking slowly upward toward his neck. A firm but gentle grip held Daniel where Jack wanted him, thumbs tilting his head up, just a little more. Daniel's eyes, normally a stormy blue, had darkened almost to black, the pupils dilated with suddenly freed desire. Jack held that barely-focussed gaze, a last question in his own eyes, Daniel breathed his name.

It was all the answer Jack needed. Daniel's lips were moist, slightly parted in invitation. An invitation Jack accepted eagerly, claiming that mouth with his own. Their first kiss. It was passionate rather than tender. Jack tasted the faintest hint of beer still on Daniel's tongue. A tongue that met his own and touched and danced and tangled with it in a mock-battle for dominance. A battle Jack didn't care if he lost.

Jack slid off the couch to join Daniel on the carpet, not even noticing the discomfort as spilled bourbon soaked into his jeans. Daniel shuffled closer on his knees until their legs met, until Jack's hands finally released his neck to travel down Daniel's bare back, over the waistband of his Levis to grip his buttocks. Hands pulling their bodies together. Close enough for both men to feel the evidence of the other's desire.

Jack rocked his hips slightly, rubbing his erection against Daniel's through layers of denim. Daniel responded with a deep groan, the sound vibrating through their joined mouths.

After a long time, Daniel pulled away, drawing a deep, much needed breath.

"Daniel?" Jack's hands were still gripping Daniel's ass.

"Jack."

"Which way is the bedroom?"

Daniel recognised that the question was asked, not because Jack didn't know, but to give him an out. He was grateful for it, and on any other night he might have taken that escape. But flight was the last thing he was capable of considering. Daniel rose to his feet awkwardly, knees stiff from their odd position on the floor. He hated to lose the physical contact between them even for that moment. He offered his hand to Jack.

"This way," he said.

Jack didn't give him a chance to grope for the light switch. Before they even reached the door Jack stopped him, his hands going to the buttons of Daniel's Levis. Daniel, getting the idea quickly, began to return the favour. It became a kind of competition, each man stripping the other as they edged their way toward Daniel's bed. Jack won, but, Daniel objected, he had an unfair advantage. Both men were laughing by the time they fell onto the bed together, both of them naked, their clothing left in an untidy trail behind them.

Laughter gave way to silence as their mouths met again. Somehow, Daniel managed to get his glasses to safety. Jack rolled them over, pinning Daniel's body beneath his own, moving his knee between the other man's instinctively parted thighs. Daniel arched against him, pushing his full cock against Jack's belly. Jack couldn't help but respond to such obvious desire: he sat up, kneeling on the cotton quilt with one of Daniel's legs trapped between his thighs. His hand traced a line down Daniel's chest, the muscles hard beneath skin that felt like silk. At the end of that teasing path his fingertips encountered a thick mat of curled hair, and Daniel's cock. He began to stroke that proud organ slowly, marvelling in the sensation of it in his palm: soft and iron-hard, all at once. It was so long, so very long, since Jack had done this for anyone but himself. He had almost forgotten ...

In the scant light coming from the living room Jack could see Daniel's face. A light sheen of perspiration was breaking on his brow, his stormy eyes were closed, the kiss-bruised lips parted in a sigh. His head tossed from side to side while his hands gripped the quilt; he was lost in the pleasure of what Jack was doing to him. Jack thought he had never seen anything so beautiful as Daniel was in that moment.

"Jack ... " Daniel's voice was roughened by passion but there was a new note in the word, too, Jack noticed. Not quite an objection ... what ...?

And Daniel's cock pulsed in his hands, Daniel's hips bucked beneath him as he climaxed with a soft, incoherent cry. Jack felt the hot stream of semen splash his hand and Daniel's belly and he felt an unexpected stab of joy. Joy, that he and he alone had drawn this response from Daniel.

_You're **mine**, Space Monkey,_ he thought, the surge of possessiveness surprising him. Jack leaned forward over Daniel's body, seeking to claim his prize.

But Daniel, it seemed, had other ideas. He allowed Jack the kiss, sucking on his tongue firmly, then exerted his strength to reverse their positions. He broke the kiss, lifting himself over Jack's body, panting slightly, the flush in his cheeks hidden by the darkness. Daniel groped for Jack's hand and lifted it to his lips, slowly sucking two of Jack's fingers deep into his mouth, tasting his own semen mingled with the salt of Jack's skin.

Jack lay there, suddenly helpless to move as Daniel's lips closed over his fingers. He felt the light, then stronger suctions and groaned. Daniel was more talented than he could have guessed. Actually, he had imagined Daniel would be fairly inexperienced, in secret moments had pictured himself awakening these new pleasures in his friend. But it appeared that the fantasy would have to stay just that; indeed, in this as in so much else, Daniel was the teacher. Daniel licked Jack's hand clean then bent to kiss him, sharing his unique taste with his lover. Their hands entwined, seemingly independent of volition, and Daniel's mouth moved to Jack's neck, his teeth closing gently on the soft skin. His free hand followed a wandering path across Jack's chest, eventually coming to a nipple, where fingertips teased and then pinched the flesh.

Jack gasped at the shock of pleasure running through him at the touch. He closed his eyes and relaxed, wondering what other delights his lover might have in store.

His lover? Yes.

Jack's mind, freed rather than fogged by the alcohol consumed that night, allowed him to see what he hadn't dared admit before. Somewhere along the way, so gradually that he hadn't even noticed it, Jack had fallen in love with this unique and passionate man. And it was _this_ truth, not the excitement and purpose of the Stargate Project, that had given his life new meaning this year. _I love you_, he thought, trying the words out. No thunderbolt struck, only a warm, spreading pleasure that filled him, caused as much by the thought as by Daniel's mouth and hands, now gliding down over his body, leaving trails of fire and saliva every place they touched.

_I love you._

"I l— " he began, the words a breathy sigh.

A sigh cut off by Daniel's finger across his lips. "Ssh, Jack. Just relax. I want to do this for you."

Jack was beyond refusal. Beyond even thought when he felt Daniel's breath on his aching cock. Just the merest touch of his tongue and Jack nearly took off into space, the pleasure a bolt of electricity flashing through his system. Daniel's hand, flat on his stomach held him down, urged him to be still. He tried. For Daniel, he tried, even though Daniel's tongue, rasping across over-sensitised flesh, was the most exquisite form of torture Jack had known. Jack's hand, still gripping Daniel's, tightened as he fought for control over the sensations assaulting him. Daniel was licking the base of his cock, now, his tongue applying unbearably sweet pressure and then — oh, God! — moist heat surrounding his scrotum as Daniel gently engulfed the soft sac in his mouth. Tongue massaging gently, finding the hard stones of Jack's testicles, memorising the taste of him and Daniel's free hand moving from its resting place on Jack's stomach to encircle Jack's swollen cock.

"Ah! God, Danny. Danny!" Jack groaned, knowing how close he was to coming, glorying in the knowledge.

Suddenly, Daniel's mouth and hands were withdrawn from him.

"Daniel?" Jack questioned, as much in concern as in very real frustration.

"Not this way," Daniel murmured softly. He moved to lie beside Jack on the bed.

"Not _what_ way?" Jack rasped.

Daniel turned to him with a dazzling smile, his teeth glinting in the scant light. He kissed Jack briefly, his tongue snaking out to just touch Jack's lips. "I don't want you to come just yet, Jack, that's all. I want ... I want you to come inside me."

Jack caught Daniel's face between his hands, looking into his eyes. "Are you sure, Daniel?" God, but he wanted this, had dreamed of it, even, yet never really thought ...

Daniel, with no hint of hesitation or fear, said simply, seriously, "I'm sure. I want you, Jack." He was reaching to open a drawer as he spoke. He rummaged around blindly, his eyes never leaving Jack. After a few seconds he had found what he was looking for: a rubber. Impatiently Daniel tore open the packaging with his teeth, and sat up, intending to put the rubber on Jack.

Jack caught his hands. "Wait. Let me do that." He took the rubber from Daniel. "I'm only gonna embarrass myself if you do it," he muttered.

Daniel smiled, clearly delighted by the implication of that. He lay back on the bed, turning over onto his stomach to give Jack access to himself.

Jack just looked at him for a few moments. His body on unselfconscious display, bronze skin in sharp relief against the almost-while quilt ... the man was a vision. Hardly able to believe he was actually allowed to touch, Jack ran a hand down Daniel's back, from his shoulder blades to the tempting curve of his ass. He was rewarded beyond measure by Daniel's sigh.

"Mmm ... Jack ... "

Jack brought his hand to his mouth, wetting his fingers. Spit wasn't exactly an effective lubricant but it would have to do. He would be gentle. It would be okay. Tentatively, Jack parted Daniel's buttocks and inserted one finger into the puckered hole of his anus. Daniel gasped and tensed for a moment, then he took a deep breath and relaxed. Jack pushed his finger in further, stroking Daniel within. He was so hot inside ... just the thought of that heat embracing his cock brought Jack to the brink of orgasm again. He gritted his teeth, fighting for some measure of control.

"Jack ... please ... "

Jack needed no further urging. He positioned himself above Daniel, between his wide-spread legs. "Are you ready, Daniel?"

He didn't wait for an answer but began to penetrate Daniel's ass. Daniel pushed back against him, uttering a strangled cry of pain and joy, a sound that would live with Jack for the rest of his days. Jack's voice joined Daniel's as he felt the heat surround him. God, he was so _tight_!

Fully sheathed in Daniel's body, Jack paused, allowing Daniel to get used to his size. Daniel, impatient, wriggled beneath him. "Jack, I'm okay. Take me, Jack, take me, _please_!"

Jack obeyed, the imperative as much from his own need as from Daniel's. He intended to go slow, to be gentle but his need was too great. He found he was pounding into Daniel's body with all his strength, urged on by Daniel's voice begging for more, oh yes, Jack, more, oh God ...

And he felt the gathering in his own body, with an intensity he was unprepared for, and he couldn't have stopped then for anything ...

As Daniel cried out Jack's name, his body shaking with the force of his orgasm ...

And the tightening of Daniel's body around his cock held Jack's climax in abeyance for a second, for two ...

Before he came, the essence of his newly-discovered love pumping from his body in waves.

Jack collapsed on top of Daniel, breathing hard. It was some time before he could even think of moving. When he did, he withdrew carefully from Daniel, remembering to salvage the rubber. He tied it off and let it fall, then pulled Daniel into his arms. Neither man spoke.

Before long, they were both sleeping.

***

At some point during the night, the chill of the night air had disturbed the lovers and they had crawled beneath the quilt, both minds fogged with sleep, to rest in each other's arms again. Daniel, who for most of a year had missed the comfort of a warm body beside him at night, neither dreamed nor woke except that once. When the dawn light shining through his window finally did wake him, for the first morning since leaving Abydos, he did not think of Sha're.

The weight of Jack's arm across his chest had been an indescribable comfort while he slept. Waking, Daniel found it slightly uncomfortable. He wriggled, trying to find a more agreeable position.

Jack stirred and opened his eyes. "Hey, Danny," he murmured. Then he rolled onto his back, raising a hand to cover his eyes. "Oh, boy ... " he groaned. "Geez, Daniel, how much did I drink?"

The greeting he had been about to offer froze on Daniel's lips. Jack's words opened a deep pit of dread inside him and he was falling into it. Was this what had happened between them? Jack had gotten drunk and he, Daniel, had gotten very, very stupid. He tried to think back: how much _did_ Jack have to drink? More than Daniel, it was true.

What had he been thinking? Jack was _straight_ for God's sake! There was no way Jack would have made love with him if he'd been sober.

These thoughts went through Daniel's head in less than a second. He swallowed, hard, feeling his own shields go up and he prayed that his voice would remain steady. "Why don't you take a shower, Jack? I'll make coffee and find you some aspirin." He climbed out of the bed quickly, acutely conscious of his own nakedness. He caught sight of his Levis in the doorway and pulled them on to hide his embarrassment, not even bothering with underpants.

"Daniel?" Jack began.

Daniel turned. "Yeah?"

"Oh, nothing." Jack swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat up. "I'll take that shower."

Daniel opened a new packet of coffee and loaded up the filter. He added an extra spoonful for good measure: he wanted it strong this morning. He started the water heating and set out a couple of mugs. Normal, domestic actions, his movements automatic, his mind elsewhere. He thought about breakfast and rejected the idea. He wasn't sure he'd be able to keep food down.

_I'm going to do something very stupid in a moment._

_Ah, God, Danny!_

Daniel sat down at the kitchen table and buried his head in his hands.

"Looks like you could use some aspirin yourself."

Daniel's head jerked up. Jack stood in the doorway, his hair and body glistening wet, clothed in nothing but one of Daniel's towels and the military dog-tags that hung around his neck. Seeing the tags, Daniel realised something else. Something he hadn't even stopped to consider the night before.

He had to force his voice to work. "Uh ... yeah. Here." He opened a cupboard, glad of the chance to hide his face from Jack, and extracted a bottle of aspirin. Tossing the bottle to Jack, he heard the familiar gurgle of the coffee filter and went to pour.

"Thanks." Jack caught the bottle deftly. He stood there for a moment, watching Daniel. Something was wrong; Jack wasn't one to read hidden meanings into everything but he knew that body language. But he was at a loss as to what had caused it. Last night had been wonderful ... hadn't it? Awkwardly, he said, "I'll ... ah ... I'll go and get dressed."

"Sure." Daniel did not even look up.

Hurt by Daniel's sudden indifference, but stubbornly refusing to show it, Jack padded back to the bedroom. He picked up his clothes, eagerly discarded the night before, and put them on over still-damp skin. That task accomplished, he had begun to clean up the evidence of their tryst when he heard the telephone ring.

Daniel answered the phone on the second ring. As Jack entered the kitchen Daniel was speaking:

" ... with me. I wouldn't let him drive home." A short silence was followed by, "Yes, sir. I understand. We'll be right there." Daniel hung up the phone and turned to Jack. That was General Hammond. He wants us at the base as soon as possible."

"I gathered." Jack picked up the coffee mug Daniel had set out for him and took a hefty gulp, burning his mouth. The mention of Hammond's name enabled Jack to slide neatly into military mode again. For a time, at least, emotional issues could take a back-seat.

Nevertheless, as Daniel passed him on his way to the bedroom, Jack felt a pang of longing.

Later. They could talk about it later.

***

At Cheyenne Mountain, there was one last medical check to go through before Daniel could be pronounced fit for duty. Daniel submitted to the requirement tensely, not sure how thorough Dr Frasier intended to be and well aware that certain tests would make the night's activities obvious. As it turned out, all she was really interested in was his mental state: she had been concerned that the alien memory probe might have serious side-effects but the EEG readings she showed him looked completely normal.

Daniel was doubly relieved.

SG-1 didn't have an off-world mission scheduled that day. Nevertheless, Daniel found himself hard at work. SG-3 had returned through the Gate with a set of stone tablets. The world they had taken them from had been deserted and it was hoped that the tablets would offer a clue as to why. Daniel was asked to help translate them. It turned out to be a unique problem and one that occupied him all day.

Colonel Jack O’Neill, as leader of SG-1 had his own duties that day, not the least of which was checking the probe's data for their next mission. It was late afternoon when he was finished, and he was ready — more than ready — to search out Daniel.

He found him. Through the glass pane in the door, Jack watched Daniel at work for a few moments. The archaeologist was deep in concentration, a notebook open beside him and a pen held in his mouth as he searched his memory and a number of books for answers. As Jack watched, he scrawled something in the notebook, adjusted his glasses and picked up the stone he was studying. Jack shook his head with a smile. The whole damn mountain could collapse around Daniel right now and he wouldn't notice. Jack remembered the effect that focussed passion had had on _him_ ... the magic of Daniel's hands and mouth on his body ...

_Ah, Daniel, when did this happen? When did I fall in love with you?_

Daniel looked up and saw him there. He bounded over to the door, and Jack's heart leapt to see the eagerness in his lover's expression. But when Daniel spoke ...

"Jack is Sam around? I think I've found something here, but I want to run it by her."

"Sam?" Jack repeated, then caught himself. _Business as usual, O’Neill._ "Yeah. I'll go find her." Abruptly, to hide the hurt, Jack turned away.

Whatever was in those tablets, Daniel seemed intent on working all night. But they had a briefing to attend at 0800 and a mission shortly thereafter, and it was for that reason, in the end, that Jack ordered Daniel to quit.

"You need to get some sleep," he told Daniel firmly. "C'mon. I'll drive you home. Unless you want to sleep on the base?"

Jack hadn't intended any double meaning in the suggestion, but it seemed Daniel detected one: he hesitated before gathering his books and papers into an untidy heap. Then he stood. "Okay. Let's go."

Jack had hoped to use the drive to talk, but Daniel turned on the car stereo, flipping through the channels until he found some music. If Daniel's choice could be called 'music'. The harsh guitar and relentless beat seemed at odds with what Jack knew of Daniel's gentle, studious nature.

_I can see tomorrow  
I can see the world to come  
I can see tomorrow  
Hear the pandemonium_

Pulling up outside Daniel's apartment building, Jack pointedly snapped the radio off. "Daniel, what's up? Can we talk about this?"

Daniel turned his serious, blue-grey eyes to Jack. "Is there really anything to talk about, Jack? You were drunk and I was stupid. Let's just leave it at that." He opened the car door and started to get out.

To be stopped by Jack's hand on his arm, gripping hard. "I _won't_ leave it at that. What about _us_?" Jack asked him, hardly able to believe Daniel meant what he said.

Daniel rolled his eyes, gently extracting himself from Jack's hold. "Wake up and smell the coffee, would you, _Colonel_? There can't be an 'us'. If anyone found out — _anyone_ — you'd be dishonourably discharged quicker than you can say 'court martial'. And we both know that your career is the most important thing in your life."

_Except you._ The words were a thundering shout in Jack's heart but he couldn't bring himself to say them. Coming from Daniel, it sounded like an excuse. A get-out. A lie. And as a memory rose in his mind, Jack thought he knew the reason why.

"And you'd lose your only chance of finding Sha're, right?" he said softly.

Daniel stared. "Uh ... yeah." He looked away, then met Jack's eyes again, nervously. "Jack ... "

"It's okay," Jack interrupted. "You're right. It never happened."

Without another word, Daniel left the car, closing the door with a thunk. He headed into the building without looking back. Jack slammed the car into gear and drove away with a screech of burning rubber. Driving much too fast, he turned the radio back on and turned the volume up. The same angry song he had heard in the bar the night before filled the car.

_You're trapped inside  
Your empty mind  
You can't run  
You can't hide  
This is your Paradise_

Jack flipped through the radio channels quickly as he drove. Snatches of songs, old and new, filled the car. Eventually he found what he wanted: a sports commentary. Afterward, he couldn't have reported what teams were playing. He wouldn't have been able to say even what _game_ was being played. Because over the radio, he heard, over and over again, the plaintive wail of a woman's voice, in one of those snatches of a song:

_How could you leave me  
When I needed to  
Possess you  
I hated you  
I loved you too_

It was a miracle he made it home in one piece.

***

Daniel went straight to the drinks tray and poured himself a glass of bourbon. The same as he had done for Jack the previous night. He sat down on the same couch and took a sip. He hated bourbon.

His eyes were drawn to the carpet: the stain of Jack's spilled drink still showed faintly, with Daniel's soaked T-shirt lying nearby. With a heavy sigh, Daniel put his glass down on the coffee table and headed into the kitchen to find some cleaner. It was hard work, but eventually he got the carpet clean. He sat back on his heels, rubbing his back and stared at the drink he had poured for himself. He didn't want it. Getting drunk wasn't the way to deal with this.

Making a decision, Daniel went to his desk. There amongst the organised chaos that was his normal working environment, he found a blank sheet of paper and a pen. Pushing his glasses back up his nose, Daniel began to write.

> _Jack,_
> 
> _I owe you an explanation, but more than that I owe you an apology. I knew you had been drinking last night. I knew you weren't yourself. I took advantage._
> 
> _I'm gay, Jack. I never told you that because I thought it wasn't necessary. They must have checked me out when I was first brought into the Stargate Project and that's not the sort of detail they'd have missed. You had access to all that intel, didn't you? So I always assumed you knew. When you talked about Sha're today, I realised you didn't have a clue._
> 
> _I don't know how to explain Sha're without sounding heartless. Jack, you were there when we met. We didn't exactly choose each other, did we? I'm not saying I didn't love her. I did and I still do. It's simply that that's not who I am._
> 
> _Last night. That's who I am. I've wanted you for a long time, Jack. I guess I lost my head. It was wrong, because I know that's not who you are. Even if it was, I know there can't be anything more between us. We're friends and that makes the cost too high. It would cost you your career, Jack, and then you'd end up hating me. I don't think I could bear that._
> 
> _Forgive me._
> 
> _Daniel._

He re-read the letter and decided it would do. Leaving it there on his desk, Daniel went to bed. He lay awake for hours before he finally drifted into restless, unsatisfying sleep.

In the morning he would wake, bleary-eyed and read the letter again. Then he would tear it methodically into tiny, illegible pieces and throw the resulting scraps into the trash.

***

Jack kept a punchbag in his garage. He gave it a great deal of punishment that night. Stripped to the waist, the sweat pouring down his back in a constant stream, he took all of his anger out on the inoffending leather.

He wasn't angry with Daniel. He was furious with himself.

What had he expected? A declaration of undying love? Daniel was an educated man. Intelligent. Sophisticated. Why would he be interested in a used-up old wreck like Jack O’Neill? They had nothing in common. They'd never even have met if not for the Stargate.

So how had the annoying little geek got so under Jack's skin?

Why waste time even asking the question? Daniel was married, for chrissakes. _Married_. So his wife was a Goa'uld. He would never give up hope of saving her, any more than Jack could give up on Ska’ra. That alone should have told him something.

God, what a mess!

But ... Daniel had been willing last night. More than willing. Jack was sure he hadn't imagined it.

_Daniel coming in Jack's hands ... the ecstasy on his face as orgasm overwhelmed him ... Daniel licking his own 'come' from Jack's fingers ..._

What was it, then? Just a one-night stand? Fuck him and forget him?

_"I'm sure. I want you, Jack."_

Just the memory was enough to draw the obvious, unwanted response from Jack's body. He tore the boxing gloves from his hands and, leaving them where they fell, headed inside to take a long, very cold shower.


	2. Chapter 2

#### Some months later.

The energy blast tore into Daniel's body, throwing him back against the wall. He fell, awkwardly. Somehow he managed to lift his gun and turn, firing the last few rounds. Recoil slammed the butt of the gun into his chest and he felt an explosion of pain. Thank God it was a machine gun: he wouldn't have had the strength to keep firing otherwise. The bullets struck the Jaffa's armour with a tinny sound and for a moment Daniel thought he had failed. Then the Jaffa fell, presumably dead.

Only then could Daniel take stock of his injuries. There was a lot of pain. He tried to turn his head to look at the damage and found that he could not. God, that hurt. Through the agony, he could feel a spreading warmth; his blood soaking into his tunic. But it was an energy weapon, surely that should have cauterised the wound? _God, listen to yourself, Daniel. This isn't a test. You're dying._

Yes, he was dying. Daniel wasn't any kind of a medic, but he knew he was losing blood fast. And he knew what that meant. He found he could accept the fact calmly.

Until Jack appeared.

"Daniel!" Ever the soldier, Jack checked the corridor first. Seeing three dead Jaffa and no other enemy, he put his weapon away, dropping to his knees beside his dying friend. He reached for Daniel, trying to see the extent of his injury.

His own death Daniel could accept, but not Jack's. Somehow, he found his voice. "I'm dead anyway. Just get out of here." He discovered he sounded surprisingly strong.

Jack didn't seem to have heard. He tried reaching across to lift Daniel, obviously intent on carrying him to the other ship. "I am _not_ leaving you here, Daniel!" he insisted.

Oh, God. Jack would do it, too. He'd endanger their whole mission just to keep Daniel alive a few moments longer. Because he had left him behind, once. Daniel couldn't let him do it.

"Get out of here! We're just gonna blow up with the other ship, anyway. What difference does it make? Go!" Daniel was begging. Go. Stop Apophis. Save Earth.

Jack drew back, looking into Daniel's eyes. Time seemed to stop, pain receded as Daniel was once again held captive by the intensity of that gaze. Jack was always so unwilling to speak of his feelings, but his eyes hid nothing from those who knew him well. Dark windows to his soul, at the moment brim-full of tears. And though loss of blood blurred his vision, Daniel could see Jack's soul clearly, laid bare before him for the first time.

He saw … pain and grief for Daniel's now-inevitable death. He saw the confusion and hurt from Daniel's betrayal was still there, behind the grief.

Most of all he saw Jack's love for him.

Why now? Why now when he was dying, now it was too late to put things right?

"Just go," Daniel repeated.

Jack held his eyes, as if that look alone could keep him alive. Daniel looked back, not speaking, this time, begging Jack with his eyes to _know_ what he needed to say, to feel what he felt, just once.

"I'll stay and watch your back," he added. It was the only apology he could offer.

Jack touched his cheek, gently. For a moment Daniel thought Jack would kiss him. But that touch was their only farewell.

Daniel closed his eyes as the pain returned worse than ever. Why? Why did he have to die to find his reason to live?

***

Sam turned to look at Jack as he rejoined them, the question, the fear, in her eyes.

"He's … staying behind," Jack told them. Not _He's dead._ He couldn't bear to say that, to make it real in that way. But Sam, at least, understood. She met his eyes with grief of her own, and a look of deep sympathy that would make Jack wonder, later, what she knew.

Then Bra'tac said, "Come." There was no time for more: they had to leave, now. Damned if Jack was going to let Daniel die for nothing. The least he could do was take Apophis with them.

And they left for the other ship. They left Daniel behind.

***

Less than an hour later, Jack was facing his own death.

They had won, though. That was some consolation. Despite the advanced technology of the Goa'uld, Klorel's ship had blown up into atoms taking Apophis' ship, and those Goa'uld sons of bitches with it. A great triumph for good old human explosives. But that meant Ska’ra was gone as well.

And Daniel.

And now the four of them were just waiting to die. It was like something from the science fiction pulps: stuck in enemy death gliders that wouldn't fly, in a decaying orbit above the planet they had just saved, air running out. _This is the part,_ Jack reflected, _where you're told to tune in next week._

He looked up. Above them, Earth shone brighter than the moon and stars ever could. The glare would have been blinding if the Goa'uld gliders weren't built with some sort of polarising glass. Jack gazed on the planet he called home and found it beautiful. He wished Daniel was here to see it.

Daniel.

Since the wonderful, ill-fated night they had made love, Jack's feelings for his friend had veered wildly between resentment for the way Daniel had treated him, and the same, helpless longing that had drawn him to Daniel's bed in the first place. It had been tough, especially at first, to keep his feelings from interfering with his duty, but one crisis after another had, ironically, helped with that. What happened between Jack and Daniel had not been mentioned again, but Jack had never forgotten.

And all the cold showers in the world couldn't purge him of the love and desire he felt.

Daniel.

Dying alone in the corridor of Klorel's ship.

Dying, he had spoken without words everything Jack had spent weeks longing to hear. Everything that needed to be said between them. In that moment, Jack had seen into Daniel's heart with blinding clarity. Had seen that what passed between them wasn't rejection, or disgust, but fear and misunderstanding. A shield thrown up by defences so deep Daniel hadn't been able to share them.

There had been a promise, too, in that look. A useless promise, true, for Daniel had known he was dying and Jack, too, would soon be dead.

A man shouldn't have to die with so much regret.

Over the intercom, he heard Bra'tac say, "We die well, Teal'c."

And Teal'c replied, as Jack knew he would, "More than that, old friend. We die free."

No regrets there, then. Jack's outlook on life had been as simple, once. He found he envied Teal'c, for just that moment.

How would it feel to burn up in the atmosphere?

But then … oh God could that really be … Hope flooded Jack's heart as he realised they were not alone in their orbit. They might yet, as the cliché went, live to be hanged.

It was the space shuttle _Endeavour_ hanging in the sky before them.

***

It took a long time to bring them down. A space shuttle can't just land at the nearest airport and this landing had to be kept secret. They had beaten the Goa'uld; no sense in starting a mass panic by allowing the people to know what had happened. Or so the theory went.

And even after they landed, there were medical checks and debriefings and at least a hundred strangers who knew what they had done and wanted to shake their hands and congratulate them. Teal'c endured the attention with his usual stoicism. Sam seemed willing to tolerate it. Jack just felt dead. He wanted it to be over.

And even when it was over, it wasn't. They had to be driven to the SGC, officially, to report in before they could go home. Apparently Stargate Command had become the main command centre for the defence of Earth. _Better late than never,_ Jack thought, but said nothing. Hell, even the President himself would want to shake their hands.

Jack just wanted to rage at the man who said that. _What's to congratulate?_ he wanted to scream. _I just killed two of my best friends._

But they had to suffer it. They had to walk into the room where everyone was waiting. They had to listen to the cheers, smile, be polite. Agree. They had saved Earth.

And then he heard Hammond announce, "SG1, there's someone who'd like to see you."

He saw, and instantly recognised, the figure pushing his way forward through the crowd. Daniel. Daniel, alive and smiling.

In a room full of people, they might have been alone. Daniel's eyes searched out Jack's as he came forward. The biggest grin Daniel had ever seen cracked the Colonel's face. Jack took a step forward and Daniel met him. No hesitation. Not even a thought for those watching. Jack opened his arms to Daniel and Daniel, with unutterable relief and joy, hugged him back, letting the gesture say all that needed to be said.

"Space Monkey," Jack whispered in his ear. The private, never before spoken nickname. He drew away, his hands on Daniel's shoulders, seriously considering kissing him right then and there. But there was Sam, waiting to greet Daniel herself, and so many others waiting to celebrate. Reluctantly, Jack released Daniel, his final look a promise of things to come.

***

That morning — which for nearly all of them was still the night before — there was a most un-military-like celebration beneath Cheyenne Mountain. Someone had gone out for a case of champagne, someone else produced a stereo and for a short time chaos reigned at the base; a much needed release from the tensions of recent days.

Daniel felt outside it all. The lingering effects of the Goa'uld sarcophagus, perhaps. He stood in the control room, a plastic cup of champagne in his hand, looking out over the empty gate-room, the still and silent Stargate. No one had asked him yet how he'd managed to return from the dead. Perhaps no one knew. No one had demanded details on his return to the SGC. That would come later. Only Jack had seen him wounded.

Jack … Daniel turned around, looking for him. He frowned, scanning the room. There was no sign of Jack. Daniel nodded to himself, understanding. Jack would need some alone time. They had destroyed two Goa'uld warships that would have devastated Earth. To everyone else here, that was a great victory. To Jack, as to Daniel, their victory had come at a great price.

Ska’ra had been aboard one of those ships.

God, Jack must be hurting. This death couldn't be called an accident. A necessary act, perhaps and a more than fair exchange. But neither of them was capable of measuring life in that way, and the victory would be no salve for Jack's conscience. They had killed an innocent boy held captive by the Goa'uld.

Daniel was about to go in search of Jack when Sam appeared at his side.

"We won, Daniel. You should be happy." Sam wasn't smiling. In fact she looked exhausted, Daniel realised.

He tried to smile. "I _am_ happy, Sam. I'm just … thinking, that's all."

"Want to talk?" A slight tilt of her head; Sam offering a shoulder if he needed one.

Daniel's smile became genuine. She was such a good friend, willing to listen now when, surely, all she wanted was to get some sleep. But Daniel had no words for what was on his mind tonight. "It's everything," he said with a shrug. "And nothing." He glanced around the room again. "Where's Jack?" he asked her.

"He snuck off home. General Hammond wants us to take today off, but we'll get a major debriefing tomorrow." Sam glanced over to where Hammond stood, a short distance away. "We could still get that court martial, you know," she added. "I think Jack just wanted a break."

Daniel hadn't thought of that. Sam was right, regardless of the outcome they had disobeyed a Presidential order by gating to the Goa'uld ship. He sighed, setting his untouched champagne down. "I think I'll head home, too. Feels like it's been a long day."

The greatest understatement of his life.

***

By the time he reached his apartment Daniel could barely keep his eyes open. He had sat in his car at Cheyenne Mountain for almost an hour, trying to decide what to do. Should he go to Jack's home? He wanted to, so much. But he eventually decided that if Jack wanted to see him, he'd have stayed at the party. So he drove himself home. Alone.

He fumbled for his keys and dropped them: there was a loud clatter as they hit the floor. Bending down to retrieve them, Daniel saw artificial light beneath his door. For a moment he was annoyed: how long had he left the lights on? He was going to see that on the next bill. Then he smiled, inwardly laughing at himself. Hours earlier he had been trying to save the world. Now he was worried about his bank account. It was almost a relief.

He managed to get the door open, hung up his keys and his jacket and headed into the living room. He needed either some very strong coffee or about eight hours sleep. As he opened the living room door and saw the man sitting there, he realised he would get neither.

"Jack?! How … ? What … ?" Daniel could only stare. _Keep trying, _he told himself, _you might even manage a full sentence._ All tiredness fled when he saw Jack waiting for him. He didn't care how he'd got in here. Didn't care at all. He was just happy, absurdly happy, to see him.

Jack was sitting in one of the easy chairs, in full view of the door. It was about 0800; bright sunlight streamed through the window behind Jack, preventing Daniel from seeing his expression. He didn't need to when Jack spoke.

"Can we talk?"

And it was there again, the old shield, the old fear (_"Geez, Daniel, how much did I drink?"_). Unwanted but unshakeable defences.

Daniel heard himself speak: "I don't think there's anything left to say." Cold. He sounded so cold.

Very slowly, Jack got to his feet and started to walk toward Daniel. No, not toward him, to the door where Daniel still stood.

_Oh, God, Jack don't leave, not now. Just help me one more time, Jack …_ Daniel felt rooted to the ground, he didn't move at all, his eyes never leaving Jack's.

Jack was almost at the door when he seemed to hesitate, standing very close to Daniel. Their eyes met. Daniel could barely breathe.

"Nothing to talk about?" Jack repeated. "Daniel, you are _so_ right."

Without warning, Jack kissed him. Their mouths clashed with no gentleness at all, no finesse. Just passion, raw and insistent. Daniel lost his balance, falling back against the doorframe. Jack's hands at his hips prevented him from falling and Jack moved closer, almost crushing Daniel between his body and the wooden architrave. Their teeth knocked together as Jack forced Daniel's mouth open. Jack's tongue demanded entry and Daniel could do nothing but submit — in truth, _wanted_ nothing else — as his mouth was ravaged and his penis sprang to full, demanding life.

After what seemed an eternity Jack pulled away.

Daniel gazed at him with eyes that refused to focus. "Jack … " he breathed. Only to find Jack's hand clamped over his mouth.

"Not another word, Daniel. You can consider that an order if you want." Jack removed his hand and waited; Daniel simply stared at him, mute. Jack nodded, satisfied. "You think too much, that's your trouble. So … if you want me to stop, push me away. I'll get the message, Daniel, and I'll go. But I don't want to hear another word out of you. Every time you talk, you screw things up."

Daniel nodded his understanding, gratefully. He wasn't sure if this dominant act was what he really wanted from Jack, but Jack was absolutely right: this time, it was what Daniel needed. He wasn't being forced or coerced. Jack had made that clear. But neither was he being allowed to refuse. Not unless he really and truly meant it. He didn't.

Particularly not when, moments later, Jack's hand moved from Daniel's hip to the fastenings of his pants. In seconds Daniel's pants were around his ankles, quickly followed by his underwear. He tried to reach for Jack but his hands were swatted away. Daniel's cock, freed by Jack's actions, was hard and ready. Jack looked down as if seeing it for the first time. "What have we here?" he teased, closing a hand around the shaft. Daniel gasped at the sudden sensation. Just a touch, and it had almost been too much.

Jack must have realised that, too. He dropped to his knees in front of Daniel, held back just long enough to be sure of consent, then took the other man's cock into his mouth.

It was over in seconds.

Daniel, fighting to stay on his feet and embarrassed by his lack of control, tried to move away. Jack wouldn't allow it; he stood, turned Daniel's face toward him and kissed him, long and deep. "Thank you," Jack whispered as he broke the kiss.

Daniel was confused. Why was Jack thanking _him_? He opened his mouth to ask, remembered Jack's admonition not to speak, and closed his mouth again.

Jack said softly, "Let's go to bed."

Daniel decided that was a wonderful idea.

In the bedroom, Jack finished his self-appointed task of undressing Daniel. The rough haste he had displayed earlier was gone. For every part of Daniel's body uncovered there were kisses and whispered endearments. It was slow and impossibly tender. The last piece of clothing to go was Daniel's shirt, and as Jack opened the shirt, exposing Daniel's chest, his fingers traced the smooth skin with wonder. There was no sign of the near-fatal wound Daniel had taken aboard Klorel's ship. The skin was perfect, unmarked.

"Daniel … how … ?"

It seemed Jack had forgotten he had ordered Daniel not to speak.

"Klorel's sarcophagus," Daniel explained.

Jack's eyes widened. He bent his head to kiss the place where that terrible wound had been. "I never thought I'd be grateful to a Goa'uld," he whispered. "But I am. They've given you back to me, Daniel … " He pulled the other man toward himself suddenly and held him tightly. "I love you, Daniel. Don't you even think about leaving me again, you hear?"

Daniel felt tears sting his eyes. So much raw emotion in Jack's once-stoic voice: it couldn't possibly be a lie. "Don't you _let_ me leave again, you hear?" he said, matching Jack's inflection perfectly.

"I won't," Jack promised, easing Daniel's shirt from his shoulders. It left Daniel naked; Jack hadn't even removed his shoes. He did so now, leaving Daniel sitting on the edge of the bed and stripping quickly, leaving his clothes in a neat pile on the floor. Then they got into the bed together.

In moments, Daniel was asleep.

Jack smoothed Daniel's hair away from his closed eyes and placed a single, tender kiss on his temple. Careful not to disturb him, Jack moved over so that Daniel lay in his arms, then closed his own eyes and tried to sleep.

***

It was shortly after noon when Jack awoke, consciousness returning slowly enough that at first, he wasn't sure where he was. Then he opened his eyes to find Daniel watching him. And remembered. Sending out a brief, incohate but sincere prayer to whatever god might truly exist in the universe, Jack smiled up at Daniel. "You're still here," he noted.

"It's my apartment," Daniel pointed out. Then Daniel was kissing him, probing tentatively between Jack's lips with his tongue. Jack allowed him entry. Daniel tasted faintly of toothpaste; he must have been awake for some time. All it took was the kiss for Jack's cock to start reminding him urgently that it had been unsatisfied earlier. As Daniel broke the kiss long enough to draw a breath he discovered the same reminder.

He began to stroke Jack's cock, not teasing but sure of his movements. Under his ministrations Jack became even harder.

"We should talk about this, Jack," Daniel said quietly. "But first … " Their lips met again, the kiss becoming more and more heated. Jack rolled them over, seeking to get closer to Daniel; Daniel abandoned his cock and wrapped his legs around Jack's body. Jack's hard cock slid against Daniel's.

"Daniel," he breathed, just to hear himself say it.

"Mmm?"

"I love you, Space Monkey."

They shared another kiss, Daniel's hands beginning to explore the other man's body. "Love you too, Jack. But — "

Jack's fingers gently covered Daniel's lips. "Don't spoil it," he begged.

Daniel smiled. "I just wanted to know where 'Space Monkey' came from."

Jack laughed at that, he couldn't help it. "Haven't a clue," he admitted. "It suits you, though." His hand slipped between Daniel's legs, fingers searching for the opening behind Daniel's scrotum. He found it, and sought entrance with one finger.

Daniel grunted a "Yes!" as Jack pushed into him, his arms tightening around Jack's body.

"Not so fast." Jack pushed in a little further before withdrawing his finger completely. "Do you have any lube?"

"Top drawer." Daniel moved to get it but Jack beat him to it. Daniel tensed slightly but if Jack noticed he said nothing, merely extracting the items he needed from the drawer: some lubricant and a rubber. He uncapped the lube, then paused, taking a closer look at the packaging.

"Minty fresh?" he questioned. "What am I supposed to do, clean my teeth with it?"

Daniel, trapped beneath Jack's body and trapped within his own desire, decided Jack's sense of humour could definitely have better timing. His voice rough, he answered, "If the idea turns you on, I suppose you _could_. Jack, stop kidding around. Are you going to take me, or not?"

Jack's finger stroked teasingly over Daniel's anus. "What if I say no?"

Daniel's eyes promised some serious retribution. But what he said was, "Then give that stuff to me and get on your knees." It was a challenge.

Jack pretended to consider that for a moment. Then he passed the lube to Daniel and issued a challenge of his own. "Let's see if you're as good with your cock as you are with your mouth."

As it turned out, Daniel was better.

Jack thought he had reached heaven when Daniel's fingers, slippery with lube, found his prostate, stroking the same spot over and over again. Daniel's fingers were withdrawn and Jack cried out with the loss, feeling a part of himself was missing. Daniel's hands stroked his sides and his back, reassuring, comforting. Then there was the sudden, insistent pressure of Daniel's cock at his opening. A moment, no more, of pain and Daniel was inside him, filling the empty spaces in his body and in his heart. Jack was beyond crying out when Daniel began to move inside him, slowly, so slowly, when Jack wanted more, oh more, Danny, please …

The shifting pressure of Daniel's thighs against his, the touch of Daniel's chest on the skin of his back, the brush of Daniel's lips against his neck, the whisper of Daniel's voice, "Oh, Jack … "

And then, oh God, Daniel's hand encircling his aching cock, beginning the slow slide up and down, stimulating him almost beyond bearing and Jack surrendered to the feelings completely, falling deeper and deeper into their love … and Daniel cried out at the end, his cock pulsing deep within Jack as he came and Jack came and they both knew in that moment that they would never, ever part again.

***

"Are you going to make me ask?" Jack laughed, pouring coffee for both of them.

They had made love until they were both exhausted, slept again, awoken and decided to get up while there was still some daylight left. A good-natured disagreement followed, over who would get first shot at the shower. They compromised by using it together, which of course took much longer than one at a time would have taken. Passion began to rise between them again, quickly doused when the hot water ran out and the shower turned shockingly cold. Eventually, fully clothed and with lust temporarily spent, they had moved into the kitchen to eat, and to talk.

"Ask what?" Daniel questioned absently. He was staring into the refrigerator, wondering how on earth he was going to turn its scant contents into a meal. He closed the refrigerator door, conceding defeat. "It's vegemite sandwiches or we eat out. Sorry."

"I meant," — Jack ignored the apology — "ask about the … er … toys in your top drawer."

"Oh." Daniel felt the heat rising in his cheeks. He sat down at right angles to Jack, the table between them but still close enough to touch. "Okay … I don't think this will be much of a surprise by now, but … I'm gay, Jack."

"I think you could say I've figured that out," Jack told him dryly. He sipped his coffee. "But I never thought you were … um … " He broke off, not quite sure how to put what he was thinking into words.

Daniel shook his head. "I'm not. Jack, can you honestly picture me cruising the gay bars, picking up a new guy every week for a casual fuck?"

The uncharacteristic language didn't faze Jack: he was used to hearing much stronger obscenities from military men. He offered Daniel his hand across the table. "No, Daniel, I can't picture you doing that. But until today I didn't know you would be the most incredible, overwhelming lover I've ever had."

Daniel looked away, almost shyly. He had no idea what to say to that.

Jack gently turned Daniel’s face back toward him. "This is a whole new side to you," he concluded. "I'm not sure what to think any more."

"If I lived that way, I'd have been fired by now," Daniel pointed out. "Jack, those things are … a keepsake, nothing more. I quit meeting men in toilets my freshman year at college." Daniel watched Jack finish his coffee and pour another. He took a deep breath. "Since we're on the subject, Jack … "

"You're going to invite me to a gay bar?" The twinkle in Jack's eye made it a joke.

Daniel wouldn't be drawn into the humour. "You and me — it could still ruin your career, Jack."

"You let me worry about that," he answered firmly. "Daniel, don't you realise yet that I _want_ to take the risk for you? There are things more important to me than my career. You're one of them." He paused, letting Daniel absorb that. Then Jack finally gave voice to the thing that worried him: "Let me ask _you_ a question, Daniel. When we find a way to save Sha're, what are you going to do?"

Daniel was silent, looking down at their joined hands. Jack had said _when_ not _if_. Eventually, he answered, "I don't know, Jack. I just don't know."

Jack pulled Daniel toward him over the table. He ran a hand through Daniel's hair. drawing him close. They kissed and Jack slid his tongue sensuously over Daniel's.

Every moment he spent with this man was a revelation, and each revelation a delight. When he first met Daniel, almost two years before, he had disliked him on sight: a foolish, snap judgement. They had worked together for most of a year, spending almost every day in each others company. Yet Jack realised he was only now getting to know this complex man. He was looking forward to learning a lot more.

"You want to eat Chinese? Or Italian?" Jack asked when they finally drew apart.

"Italian sounds good. I'll get my jacket."

Amazing. One moment Daniel was a sensual creature of pure passion, the next a different person entirely, back in the mundane world. Jack followed his lover to the door, real joy filling his heart.

They faced an uncertain future. But of one thing Jack had no doubt. They would find that future together.


End file.
